"Blasted cold," he wheezed, shoulders hunching. "You think I do not know my value comes from what I do, what I make, the coin and honor I bring in? I'll be forgotten, my works appropriated by more ambitious men, my name sanded out of history, if I have any at all? Pah, I'll still have done those things!"
Ling Qi grimaced as her vision wavered, the simple truth that had been pushed to the back of her mind surging forward. His ring had never gone anywhere. He had been standing there all the while.
"As if I have not known my every breath is weighted, measured and recorded for the metrics of success. As if I have not been told in more words that I'm not a silly, sentimental fool that the clan can afford to offload as an asset, because I've not the right mindset for 'real' business? Good work you wretch, you've broken my 'face', now what, think I'll give up and weep like a lonely child? I'll bring this hole down on us both first! The price of a Bao's life is more than you will afford." Bao Qian said angrily, each word punctuated by a pulse of gold and grey, the rock thrummed under his feet, and the gemstones woven through the fabric of his clothes, set in his belt and his rings, flashed and flared in a show of lights.